Countdown to Christmas: 21 more sleeps...

Vanilla-Free Christmas anthology
featuring Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan

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This Christmas, the best gifts are waiting for those who have been naughty…

And the toys under the tree are not for children. Sexy Santas, naughty elves, and dominant shifters are ready to spread some very kinky Christmas cheer. It’s a good thing the ladies in our stories are looking for anything but vanilla.

Be Warned: ménage sex, anal sex, sex toys, BDSM, spanking

~ 9 Author Kink Anthology~

Santa's Beard
by Doris O'Connor

When Santa strokes his beard wishes are granted - apparently. Joanna is not convinced, but when she wakes up on Christmas morning to find her cats have magically morphed into two naked and dominant men, she doesn't know what to think anymore. All she can do is ride the waves of sensation, as all her kinky desires come true. Can fantasy stand up in reality, or was it all just a dream?

Secrets Santa
by Raven McAllan

When Marian hears voices at the office party she thinks she is losing the plot. The incredibly sexy Santa who hands out the presents is another surprise. Does she follow the instructions that come with the presents?

After having been left alone for years with only videos to guide her, can she trust her heart and truly submit. Will it be, Oh no, Santa, or Yes, Sir? 

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Keep your eyes peeled over the coming days to find out more about our two featured authors from today's featured Christmas anthology, Doris O'Connor and Raven McAllan.

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Excerpt from Santa's Beard...

Joanna stretched and moaned softly. Christmas Day already? She couldn't even remember getting to bed last night, but clearly she must have done. She was not lying face down on her lumpy couch anymore, where she was pretty sure she had passed out sometime on Christmas Eve, having drunk the entire bottle of wine by herself. She distinctly remembered Ben's feline stare and Bill licking her ear, and then things had gotten crazy.

Joanna groaned, recalling the strange dream that had followed. Yes, crazy cat lady, that was her, for in her dream, Ben's stare had changed into the disapproving and unblinking gaze of a drop dead gorgeous, muscled hunk of a man. Her pussy had clenched, and she'd whimpered her need into the shoulder of another man. Slightly smaller and leaner than his counterpart, he'd nonetheless made short work of picking her up. The room had swayed and Joanna had held on to impossibly broad shoulders, curling her fingers into the man's flexing biceps as her stomach had rolled and her head pounded. She had screwed her eyes shut and buried her face in the man's broad chest, desperately trying not to bring up the contents of her stomach.

"Relax." The deep voice of the man carrying her had rumbled through her, and another hand had massaged her shoulders.

"Caid is right. Relax, let us take care of you for a change, sweet Joanna."

Even in her dream, Joanna thought how odd this conversation was, but she wasn't about to argue with the commanding tone that made her toes curl under. Had she not been feeling so wretched that voice alone would have been enough to make her want to jump his bones.

Instead she had snuggled into the two male, warm bodies cocooning her and had slept peacefully all night. Now that was a first, too. Usually Joanna battled with insomnia, but not last night. Like a warm, soothing blanket, her men had surrounded her, much like Bill and Ben always did. Now there was a thought. Usually the two felines would have demanded their breakfast by now. Instead the mouthwatering aroma of brewing coffee permeated her senses at the same time as the prodding hardness against her ass cheeks registered for what it was.

What the fuck?

Her eyes flew open, and she would have dashed off the bed, had the man whose rock hard cock was digging into her crack not chosen that moment to use his considerable body strength to pull her back, roll her over, and pin her to the bed. He caught her flailing wrists with one large hand and held them still above her head. Her long haired captor ground his hips into the juncture of her thighs and pinned her with a stare so intense, her pussy instantly flooded with the evidence of her arousal. His emerald eyes narrowed and he smiled—a slow, dangerous, smile—that made her heart miss a beat before it tried to hammer itself out of her chest.

"Lie still, sweet Joanna. You've earned yourself enough punishment as it is."

Good God. It was the voice from her dream. A voice so full of authority and leashed passion, Joanna's breath hitched and excitement spread through her veins like wildfire.

"P … punishment? What for?"

"Hmm, let's see." The stranger, whose eyes held her captive with their familiar arrogance, smiled and pressed his erection into her mound. "Does this feel as though it ought to be castrated? And I won't even mention the fucking tags."

His annoyed growl vibrated through her and her eyes widened, when she took a proper look at him. It couldn't be. Yet, there, right above her was the unmistakable evidence. Her captor was missing his right arm—just like Ben.

"Ease up, Aran, you're scaring our woman. We need to explain this. Then we can paddle that sweet ass of hers and give her the fucking she deserves."

"Paddle … deserve?" Joanna was all too aware that she sounded like a dimwitted parrot, but when one was staring at a drop dead gorgeous human version of one's cat—and this one had a scar just like Bill—surely a woman was allowed to sound like a feathered idiot.

"You're my cats. You're Bill and Ben." That statement came out as a high-pitched squeak, and both men growled.

"Another ten swats to the tally for those ridiculous names, and we're not just cats."

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Excerpt from Secrets Santa...

"So, it's present giving time," Santa said. "Have you all been good?"

The resultant roar of  "Yes, Santa," made Marian smile. It seemed they were all big kids at heart.

"Then when I call your name out you can come and get your presents. One from the tree and one from me."

 The strains of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" rang around the room, and people began to sing along. Marian rolled her eyes. One silly little song, and everyone was all pally-pally, petty jealousies forgotten. As she watched her P.A. cuddle up to Sean from Accounts she stifled a grin. Sean was the next best thing to a piranha. However, Connie was no slouch in the elbow in the groin department. A sudden grunt from him and a grin from Connie confirmed it.

Whilst she had been watching the byplay, Santa had been calling various people up to the stage. The guys had shaken his hand, and the girls all sat on his lap and gave him a kiss. There was a photographer close by to record everyone opening his or her Santa present. Santa had emphasized the tree presents had to wait until Christmas day.

Marian laughed along with the rest of her colleagues as the various presents were opened and displayed. They were all silly little things. A stapler, a musical keyring, an ice scraper, and a coffee mug were all duly unwrapped and displayed.

Santa delved into his sack. "Marian Pearson, come on down." As her colleagues clapped and whistled, just like they had for all the others, Marian swallowed hard and began to walk to the front of the room. Her body was on fire, and she was sure her juices were running down her leg and staining her skirt. Why did those words no longer sound like the silly tag line of an old TV show and more like a demand?

As if it was a dream, with her head held high and clit throbbing, she walked between her co-workers and climbed the stage to stand in front of Santa. If he thought she was going to sit on his lap, he had another think coming. Whoever he was.

His grin was just visible from under the big bushy false beard. "Have you been a good girl, Marian?" His voice rumbled and vibrated through her. To her relief he didn't pat his lap and Marian didn't dare take more than one brief look there. His cock was pushing at the material like an excited flagpole. She hoped he hadn't been like that for all the women.

"Only you," he said in a low voice, which would not be overheard. "Only you." He rummaged in the Santa sack and pulled out a long thin box. "Here is your Santa present, Marian. Open it and show your colleagues."

 She took it obediently and tore the paper. She couldn't remember him using that authoritarian tone with anyone else. Her clit did its dancing act as he spoke.

Seriously, woman, get a grip. You'll be rolling over and asking for your tummy to be rubbed if you're not careful.

"Or your cunt to be spanked. Believe me, love, you don't need to ask, that's a given."

You what? Marian rubbed her ear. Surely she hadn't heard what she thought she had. No one was going to spank her anywhere, let alone there.

As the last of the wrapping paper fell away, she goggled. Inside were two long rulers. Santa's last words came back to her, and she bit her lip to stop herself moaning. Spank her with these? Surely not? Though the movie running through her head sent sharp darts of excitement into her as the scene flashed through her mind.

Behind her, none of her fellow workers saw anything amiss. Most of the presents had been work oriented. It didn't take Santa's low words to reinforce that.

"Especially for you, love, twice the pain, four times the pleasure. You'll see." He raised his voice.

"Why don't you kneel down and reach for your tree present, Marian. Don't forget, you must take it home and put it under the Christmas tree until Christmas day."

She looked up at him suspiciously. The words seemed innocuous enough, but she wasn't so sure. However, the determined look in his eye had her panties more than damp once more, and she nodded. "Yes, S…" She stopped, appalled at herself. His eyes twinkled, and she would swear he was trying not to laugh. "Yes, Santa." She improvised, aghast at what nearly slipped out.

She knelt in front of him to pick up the parcel with her name on it. As she did so, he spoke once more. His low sensual voice set shivers down her spine and into her pussy.

"And that position, my dear, is how you should be whenever we meet. Remember, red, orange, and green."

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